Page 98 of Secret Triplets for Christmas

What the fuck? Surely, this ordeal was over. I picked up the phone and opened my messages and clicked the top message.

I letyou and the girl live. You owe me. Go back home and let all this go.

I lookedup at Agent Marsden. "I don't know what this means."

"Do you want to hear my theory?"

I nodded.

"I think Donovan and Darcy and perhaps a few others are trying to take over the crew from Wally Creighton. I suspect they wanted what Liam had to try and blackmail Wally or somehow use it against him. Or maybe they were just going to sell the information to make money so that they could take over the crew. We believe Wally Creighton somehow found out about it and was following you, killed Detective Donovan and Darcy Patrick, and got the documents. We think this text is from him and he's asking a favor of you.”

I sat back, raising my arms in surrender. "I don't have anything. All I had was the papers and those are gone.” But then I remembered I'd taken pictures of them and now I had to decide whether or not to reveal that. I quickly decided not to. This text was a threat. It meant that Lindsay and the girls could still be in danger if I helped Agent Marsden.

"Are you all right, Mr. Quinlan?"

I sucked in a breath and sat up straight. "I'm fine. Creighton or whoever this is doesn't have to worry about me. I don't know anything. I don't have anything." I slid the phone back to her.

She picked up the phone and set it next to her files. "As I said, we’ll be taking this for evidence, looking at all the texts and everything."

I nodded my understanding.

She cocked her head to the side. "There's a part of me that wonders, Mr. Quinlan, if perhaps you made a copy of the papers that we believe Mr. Creighton just killed two people and possibly your brother for."

I shrugged noncommittally. For all I knew, Riker was in on this. Or somebody watching through the two-way mirror was in on this. My only goal right now was to distance myself from this situation.

Agent Marsden studied me for a moment and then gave a nod. She gathered the phone and her papers together.

"This is part of our case as well," detective Riker said.

Agent Marsden stuffed all the materials into her briefcase. "This is now a federal case involving organized crime and identity theft. Of course, if we learn anything that will help solve Liam Quinlan's murder, we will definitely let you know."

She gave me one last look, and a part of me felt she was telling me she knew what she’d find on the phone, assuming her tech team could decrypt the photos. I gave her a nod to let her know I understood. Liam had trusted her, and I was now going to do the same.

There was only one more thing to do if I was going to insure Lindsay and the girls’ safety. "Before I leave here, do you have a piece of paper? Would you be willing to deliver something to Lindsay McKinnon for me?" I asked Agent Marsden.

“Sure.”

Detective Riker ripped off a piece of paper from the pad he had in front of him and handed me a pen. I wrote Lindsay a note trying to explain everything. When I finished and signed my name, my heart shattered into a million pieces. I folded it up and handed it to Agent Marsden.

I left the police station, feeling more exhausted than I had in my entire life. I had no phone, but Detective Riker was kind enough to order me a car. When I got back to my hotel room, I sank onto the couch, too tired to get the drink I craved. My head sagged back into the couch and I closed my eyes. As soon as I had the strength, I was going to leave Boston for good.

29

Lindsay

When I was discharged, my father drove me and the girls home. Mira left briefly to pick up Grayson from school but then came back to my house. When the call came in that Oliver and Olivia were safe, my father took me to the police station. Seeing my baby again after a day of being so afraid brought me to my knees. I knew I’d never be able to repay Oliver for his heroism. I hated to leave him behind, but I had to get Olivia home.

When Georgie and Cassie reunited with Olivia, the three of them hugged each other and cried. Then I scooped them up and brought them to the couch and we sat and cried together. That was where I was now because there was nothing else I could do but sit and savor having my children with me.

"I’d feel better if you came back to the house with me and Miranda," my father said as he sat in a chair across from us, watching us. I imagined he was holding a vigil, like a guard keeping us safe.

I shook my head. "The girls need to be in their own space. They need to have some semblance of normalcy."

He frowned. "They know me and Miranda. They know our house."

I stood my ground. "This is their house."

His jaw tightened. "Then we're all going to stay here with you."

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